I have always been sensitive to things other people couldn't sense. I don't even know when I began to develop my psychic abilities. When I was a child, three or four years old, I used to say strange things and give information I shouldn't have known. I was born into an atheist family and was hardly exposed to Christian stories (Christmas for me was when a little boy was born in a manger and to celebrate it Santa Claus gave us presents lol), but when the topic came up once at dinner I started talking about how Jesus was born to Joseph and Mary, and that nobody actually knew when he was born because it was such a long time ago. Then I explained that he had a bad friend called Judas and that he was put on a cross when he was thirty-three years old.
My parents were amazed at what I knew and asked me who had told me that. I said I didn't know, or I couldn't remember. But like I said, I was raised in a very atheist way and had no religious friends, or at least none that talked about it.
I also got "gut feelings" about places from about the age of eight. For example, there was this big park behind my best friend's house where we used to play sometimes, but when my friend wanted to go there, I always tried to convince her to play somewhere else, because I had this really, really bad feeling about that place. I later learnt that it was an old pagan burying ground.
But my real psychic experiences started when I was eleven years old, in 2007. I met this little girl in my room once, and she told me she was Ebba and she asked me if I wanted to be her friend. I accepted and she's been with me ever since. She has told me a lot of information about her life and her family, which I won't repeat to keep her privacy.
Now we are getting to the main topic of this post. Two years later, in 2009, I began to have very, very strange dreams. I had always had strange, vivid dreams ever since I was a child (I used to dream of this big manor, and I was a teenage girl waving goodbye to a man in uniform on a horse. Years later I researched the costumes we were wearing and discovered they corresponded to those of the British Regency (early 19th century)). But these dreams are different.
Each night, I close my eyes and I dream I go to this place which is exactly like the real world, meaning I have a full life there too, except that I can not only travel in space, but also in time. I have met people there, I have made friends, and these friends have told me about themselves. All of them, are dead.
You could call it an ordinary dream, but it is different in several ways: first, I continue it each night. Like I can finish the dream, say, having breakfast with my friends, and the next night, I find myself at the same table, with the same friends, just as I had left them. Second, I am conscious of what I do. In a normal dream, you aren't able to control anything, your body just moves and you just do what the dream wants you to do. Or, you can control everything: you, the other people, the "story", the background. In these dreams, I can control my own body and thoughts, just like in real life, but not those of others. I have no influence whatsoever on what surrounds me.
Third, I have spoken to some people who are historically famous. One of them was George IV, king of Great Britain. (Ok, don't laugh at me) I actually met him there once, and we talked for a while. He told me about his parents, especially his father who was mad (he described his madness) and his brothers and sisters (he told me their names, but I couldn't remember all of them, just Elizabeth and little Octavius and Alfred who died). He told me about his life, when he was born and died, and what it was like then. Then next morning, when I woke up, I was curious to see if I had gotten anything right. It was all right. I swear!
This whole dream thing might be explained by a story someone told me there. Since I was little, I have been frightened by some things in an unexplainable way, like fire. I never was in a fire nor ever even saw a house burning down until the age of seven, by which time I was already terrorized by fire. On the other side, I have always been attracted in a very strong way to water, and, for some reason, also to Greece (the country). I also used to talk about very strange "memories" that had never actually happened. For example, I was say to my mother: "Remember the time when..." and she would say: "What time? That never happened!" "Yes it did!" and I would give lots of information about who I was with, what we did and so on. My parents used to say I was imagining it, and they still do, but I am sure of one thing: I never made those "memories" up.
In my dream, I met this boy who told me I was his girlfriend in a past life. He told me part of our story, and the other part was what I remembered from those strange "memories". More than two thousand years ago, we lived in Ancient Greece in a small city called Phthia. My friend, whom we shall call Patrick (that is not his real name, obviously, but it's easier to call him that than "my friend"), had been my friend ever since I was a little girl. By the time we were teenagers, we were in love, and though Greece was at war at that time, we decided we would marry as soon as the war was over. But Patrick was called away to fight, and one morning the news reached me that he had been killed. I went mad with despair and, knowing that I had nothing left in the world now that he was gone, killed myself.
Patrick has often told me that he died for me to live, and that he would have done anything for me to go back and live that life I deserved. Now my theory is that I was reincarnated here and now for his sake, to live life, but that I couldn't bear to be separated from him and so each night, I go back to the place where he is now, to be with him.
Thank you for having read my story to the end, sorry it was a bit long. What do you think? Could my theory be right? Should I continue going to that dream place? If not, how can I prevent it?